


Tried for Revenge

by Wiseone11



Series: New Beginnings [2]
Category: NCIS, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, Established Tony/Ziva, F/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiseone11/pseuds/Wiseone11
Summary: Sequel to Deceptive. Two years after the events of Deceptive, a series of mysterious murders plague Washington DC. The only leads: A metal shard, rope, and a bloody piece of glass. Characters may seem OOC.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Series: New Beginnings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717264
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This story is a sequel to my pervious story Deceptive and this story takes place almost two years after the end of Deceptive. This story will be a little confusing if you haven't read it. Please note that characters are somewhat out of character.
> 
> This work is considered rated M (to be on the safe side) due to violence and suggestive themes. A warning will be included at the beginning of a chapter if it contains suggestive themes. Also, all mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Also, this work is not yet completed and most likely will not have a consistent updating schedule. I will update my tags as necessary.
> 
> This work is also posted on FF.net under the same pseudonym.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter One: 2020 May 18-Washington DC: NCIS Building**

The sun shines in through the large windows making the orange walls glare brightly. The bullpen bustles with life as agents gather around desks, coffees in hand as they catch up on the latest office gossip. 

“I got a reservation to that new restaurant downtown,” Torres says as he sits down in his chair. 

“The French place,” McGee asks?

“Yep,” Torres answers.

“Delilah wants to try it,” McGee says, “How’d you get a reservation? I’ve been trying to book one for days.”

“I’m just lucky like that.”

“Are you going to take your new girlfriend there,” Bishop asks?

“Uh, no,” Torres says, “we broke up.” 

Torres shrugs, “It just wasn’t working out.”

_Ding!_ The elevator doors open and Gibbs walks into the bullpen, a coffee in one hand and his phone pressed tightly against his ear. McGee, Bishop, and Torres look up as Gibbs stops at the entrance of the team’s office area. Gibbs hangs up his phone.

“Grab your gear. We have a dead body on the Navy Yard,” Gibbs says and walking back to the elevator, the rest of the team following closely behind him.

* * *

**Washington DC, Navy Yard**

In a barely used part of the Navy Yard, bright yellow tape marked off a small section between two buildings. A bloody body shape lump laid on the cement with Dr. Palmer hovering over the body. 

“Torres, bag and tag. McGee, pictures. Bishop, sketches,” Gibbs says as he ducks under the yellow tape. 

Torres starts looking around the marked off area for anything related to the crime scene as McGee takes pictures. Bishop follows Gibbs to the body where she starts taking measurements. 

“What do you got, Palmer,” Gibbs says as he squats down opposite of Jimmy.

The dead body is dressed in loose jeans and a blood-stained shirt, but the body has no shoes. The head is beaten in, where there was once probably a face there is only a deep sunken hole filled with blood, broken bones, and brain tissue.

Jimmy looks up from the body, “Uh, the victim appears to male judging by the height and body style. If I had to guess, he probably died from blunt force trauma to the head.”

“Someone must have had a grudge,” Bishop says.

“Or they are covering up the victim’s identity. There is no wallet, no Id, no dog tags, nothing,” Torres says, “only thing I’ve found is this.”

Torres holds up a small container with a small silver triangle. Gibbs looks up at the container in Torres’s hand and then back to the victim. The body’s feet and hands are marred with burn marks that extend to the bone. 

“As you can see, both the victim’s hands and feet have been badly burned and both are missing their fingernails and toenails,” Jimmy says.

“Torture, maybe,” McGee says.

“Time of death?”

“Hard to say,” Jimmy says, “maybe, somewhere between 2100 last night and 0500 this morning.”

Gibbs stands up and looks at the two buildings surround the body.

“McGee,” Gibbs says pointing to a security camera mounted at the end of one of the buildings, the camera is pointed right at the body, “get me that camera footage.”

“On it boss,” McGee says picking up his cell phone.

“Torres, did you find anything thing else other than that piece of metal,” Gibbs asks?

“No, just this. The whole area is clean.”

“Broaden the search. Bishop, I want an Id and tell Kasie I want to know what that piece of metal is from,” Gibbs says as he walks away from the crime scene.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two months after Alex is released from the hospital in Deceptive and served her suspension notice from the CIA, her place at the CIA is answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Two: 2018 September 4-Langley, VA: CIA Headquarters**

“Good morning, Veronica,” Alex says as she steps off the elevator. 

“Good morning, Alex,” Vero says looking up from her computer as she smiles, “Director Sander is expecting you.” 

Alex gives Vero a small smile, “Thanks.” 

Alex walks up to the Director’s office door and knocks. 

“Come in,” A female voice says through the door. 

Alex takes a deep breath before opening the door. An older lady dressed conservatively with glasses sits at the desk. The lady looks up from her paperwork at the click of the door shutting.

“Alex Covington,” she asks with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Yes Ma’am,” Alex says with her chin held high. 

“Have a seat, Officer Covington,” the lady gestures to the armchair in front of her desk. 

“Thank you,” Alex says as she takes the offered seat. 

Alex looks around the room, noting the subtle differences in the director’s office. The office seemed to have more of a subtle feminine touch to the decor now. The lady, Director Sanders, takes off her glasses and sets them on top of her paperwork.

“Do you know why I have called you here, Officer Covington?”

A sarcastic remark is on the tip of Alex’s tongue but she thinks better of it, “No ma’am.”

“I have personally been looking over your case files and history,” Director Sanders puts her glasses back on, “You have quite a remarkable career and history. Obviously there are a few bumps in the road.”

Director Sanders picks up a file, “Graduated high school at seventeen. Completed a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology at UCLA, top of your class. You did that in three years…”

Director Sanders flips the page in the file, “You joined the agency right after. You completed the mandatory 21-week intensive training program. After which, you completed the probationary period in six months’ time instead of the average two years. All of which is very impressive.”

“Thank ma’am,” Alex says.

Director Sanders snaps her eyes up to meet Alex’s.

“You would think with all of that potential you wouldn’t screw up,” Director Sanders says as she slams the file down and picks up another file, “2016, London. That ring a bell?”

Alex’s jaw tenses, “It does,” Alex grits out.

Director Sanders looks down at the file and reads off, “This was a high profile case and you let all of that work, all of that preparation go down the drain all because you got impatient and interrogated a couple of low lives. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Alex exhales slowly but it doesn’t help.

“I have to admit, it’s not my best work,” Alex says sarcastically.

“Not your best work,” Director Sanders mocks, “That was just the tip of the iceberg. Instead of following your previous director’s order and taking your punishment like an adult. You decided to stick your nose into something it ought not to be stuck in.”

Alex’s face grows red. She closes her eyes, taking deep breaths.

Director Sanders leans back in her chair, “What do you have to say for yourself? I know you want to. I can see it in your face.”

Alex cracks.

“He deserved it. I wasn’t going to let an innocent woman hide from her family or die because of him.”

Director Sander smirks, “If you didn’t listen to your previous Director. What’s to say you will listen to me.”

“What do you want me to say,” Alex whispers.

Director Sanders lays down the file and leans onto her desk.

“I don’t trust you, Officer Covington. And quite frankly, I don’t like you either.”

Alex stares at the Director, “Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual.”

Director Sander smiles, “I am glad we can agree on something. Now, I am willing to revoke your suspension and reinstate you but I need some reassurance that you won’t betray me or the agency.”

Alex closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“What’s the price,” Alex asks as she opens her eyes.

“Desk duty and general clearance. Minimum of five years with good behavior.”

“And if I don't accept?”

“Well, you might as well start looking for employment elsewhere.”

“Fine,” Alex grits her teeth, “I accept your terms.”

“Good,” Director Sanders sits up straight, “You’re dismissed.”

Alex stands up from the chair.

“Ma’am,” Alex says with a nod.

Alex exits the office with head held high.

“So,” Vero asks as the door shuts behind Alex, “How’d it go?”

Alex stalks past Vero mumbling, “Feels like I just made a deal with the Devil.”

“How about we go for drinks tonight,” Vero calls after Alex just before the elevator door shuts.

* * *

“I don’t know what’s worse that meeting this morning or being in this stupid bar,” Alex grumbles as loud music fills the bar.

“You know you don’t have to be so grumpy,” Vero says as the bartender sets down drinks in front of Alex and Vero.

“I’m not grumpy,” Alex says, “I just don’t like that lady and I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

Vero rolls her eyes, “If I didn’t drag you to this bar, you would be drowning in your second bottle of whiskey by now.”

“That may be true.”

“Excuse me,” A deep voice says from behind Vero and Alex.

Alex and Vero turn towards the voice, a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes.

“Can I buy you a drink,” the man says to Vero?

Vero leans her arm on the bar and starts twirling her hair around her finger. Alex rolls her eyes and turns back to her drink.

“I don’t know,” Vero says and bites her lip, “Can you?”

A smile appears on the man’s face, “Hey, bartender! Another one for the pretty lady over here, on me!”

The bartender nods and starts preparing another drink for Vero.

“So, what’s your name, beautiful?”

“Mhm,” Vero tilts her head as she pretends to think, “What would I get if I told you?”

The man leans closer to Vero bringing his face inches away from hers.

“How about a date?”

The bartender sets Vero’s new drink down. A sheepish smile and a blush appear on Vero’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Vero tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “I am dating someone already.”

The man looks from side to side, “Well, I don’t see your boyfriend anywhere. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

One of Vero’s hands wraps around Alex’s bicep, “Well, she isn’t my boyfriend,” as the other hand gently pushes the man away from her face, “She’s my girlfriend.” Vero yanks Alex to her and kisses her. Vero’s other hand wraps around Alex’s neck as Alex’s hands go to her waist.

The man stands there open-mouthed before leaving, not saying a word. 

Alex breaks the kiss and whispers, “Is he gone yet?”

“Yeah.”

Vero and Alex untangle themselves.

“Thanks,” Vero mutters as she takes a sip of her drink.

Alex downs her drink, “Not like it’s the first time that’s happened.”

“Still thanks.”

Alex holds up her glass and the bartenders quickly comes over to refill it.

“You know there are better ways to get free drinks than this right,” Alex says.

“I do,” Vero says.

Vero finishes her drinks, “Want to get out of here?”

“As long as it’s to my place, so I can drink in peace,” Alex says.

“Sure,” Vero says as she gets off the barstool.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva are on a mission that takes them undercover at a hotel in Washington DC. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Three: 2020 May 18-Washington DC: Hotel**

“It’s 6 o’clock,” Ziva says and takes a sip of her wine. 

Tony looks up from his food. 

“He’s probably running late.” 

“He’s been coming down to dinner every day at exactly 6 o’clock sharp. I think something’s happened.” 

“He could have ordered take out… Or you know, some other, more exotic dish,” Tony says as a grin slowly appears on his face. 

Ziva slaps Tony’s shoulder with the back of her hand. 

“Focus, Tony.” 

“Ow! I’ll have you know, I am focusing,” Tony watches Ziva as she eats. 

Ziva meets his eyes.

“The case, Tony.” 

“And take my eyes away from my beautiful wife? I don’t think so,” Tony leans over the table and kisses Ziva gently on the lips.

“You know, we don’t get to do this often with Tali around the house and all. We need to savor the moment,” Tony says as he leans back, picking up his glass of wine. 

“And we will. After we find out why Seaman Price went AWOL.”

Tony looks down at his watch, “Look, it’s 6:30 now, we’ve been here an hour. He’s probably not coming down. So, why don’t we just call it a night and go use our hotel room that has been graciously paid for.”

“You’re right,” Ziva says.

Tony grins as he stands up offering Ziva his hand, “Well then, my lady.”

Ziva takes Tony’s hand, “About one thing. Seaman Price isn’t coming down tonight. We are paying him a visit.”

The smile slips off Tony’s face.

“Come on,” Ziva leads a pouting Tony out of the hotel restaurant to the elevators.

Ziva pulls Tony into the empty elevator and hit the button that will take them to floor 9. As the elevator doors shut, Ziva pushes Tony against an elevator wall and kisses him hard, her hands running through his hair bringing his mouth down to her. Tony wraps his hands around her waist tugging Ziva’s body impossibly closer to him. Tony pulls his head back a bit. 

Ziva and Tony’s breath mingle as Tony asks breathlessly, “I thought you said, you wanted to visit Price.”

Ziva brings her bottom lip into her mouth as she looks up at Tony, “We are.”

Ziva brings Tony’s mouth back down to hers.

_ Ding!  _ The elevator doors open and Ziva tugs Tony out of the elevator. Ziva stumbles and giggles as she leads Tony to Price’s hotel room.

Ziva knocks on the door and then turns to kiss Tony.

“Pretend, we are picking up a friend,” Ziva whispers in Tony’s ear as she kisses his neck.

Tony leans forward, Ziva still wrapped around him and knocks on the door.

“Open up man, we are going to miss the party!”

There is no answer and nothing could be heard inside the hotel room. Tony looks down confused at Ziva.

“This is strange,” Tony says, “he’s usually at least has loud music playing, even if he has left the hotel.”

Ziva lets go of Tony and pulls a key card out of her clutch.

“Master key,” she says as she swipes the key across the door handle.

The handle lights up green and a small click is heard. Ziva turns the door handle slowly and looks back at Tony. Tony has his gun pulled, Ziva nods and slowly opens the door, letting Tony go in first. She follows him into the room drawing her gun from her dress. The smell of burnt flesh perforates the room. Tony suddenly stops.

“Looks like you were right,” Tony says as Ziva steps around him, “Something’s happened.”

On the hotel’s floor lays a body with its head beaten in and its hands and feet have been badly burned.

“I’m calling Ducky,” Ziva says as she pulls her phone out of her clutch.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years before becoming a CIA officer or even finishing high school, Alex was just a teenager like any other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Four: 2008 February 20-Alabama**

“Come on, kid,” a grey-haired old man with green eyes says, “Get in.” 

The old man climbs into the driver seat of an old pickup truck. 

A younger Alex Covington, with long brown hair, climbs into the passenger seat. 

“Seat belt,” the old man reminds her. 

Alex rolls her eyes but clicks the seat belt into place anyway. 

The old man starts the truck with ease despite its age. 

“Where are going, Pa,” Alex asks as the truck peters down the road slowly.

“You’ll see when we get there, kid,” the old man, Pa says, “It’s about the journey, not just the end result.”

Alex doesn’t say anything more just watches the rural Alabama landscape pass by. Pa fiddles with the radio, jumping between static and muffled music before settling on a station playing an upbeat country song. The journey seemed to take forever as Alex started getting restless in the passenger seat. Pa looks over Alex then back at the road.

“No need getting restless,” Pa says, “The journey takes as long as it takes. There’s no need getting upset over the little things that we can’t help.”

“I wouldn’t be like this if I knew where we were going,” Alex says.

Pa pulls a carton of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and puts one in his mouth. He puts the carton back and pulls out a zippo, lighting the cigarette. He takes a long drag then takes the cigarette from his mouth and exhales. The hand with the cigarette laying lightly on the steering wheel.

“Sometimes, kid, you won’t know where you’re going-just that you’re going,” Pa says, “Life is funny like that. Nothing is for certain. You just got to enjoy the journey.”

Pa flicks his blinker light on and brings the cigarette back to his mouth as he turns into a parking lot. Alex looks up at their destination.

“A junkyard,” Alex questions?

“That’s what the sign says don’t it?”

Pa gets out of the truck with Alex following behind slowly.

“Why are we here,” Alex asks as they approach the small shack in front of all of the junk cars.

“What does it look like,” Pa says as he knocks on the door of the shack, “We obviously ain’t here for burgers.”

The door opens revealing a hunched over bald with missing teeth.

“Can I help you,” the man says.

“I called earlier,” Pa says, “about a car.”

“Name?”

“James Covington.”

“Right, Covington,” the man says as he steps out of the shack, “The cars you called about are over in that section of the yard.”

The man gestures to the far side of the junkyard.

“You’re welcome to look around,” the man continues, “if you find one you like, just give me a holler.”

Pa nods and the man steps back in the shack, slamming the door behind him. Pa starts walking in the direction the man gestured but Alex was still rooted to the spot.

“Ya coming, kid,” Pa yells as he continues walking.

Alex hurries after Pa.

“What kind of car are you looking for,” Alex says as she falls into step beside him.

“A car,” Pa says.

“These are muscle cars,” Alex says as they reach the spot the man gestured at earlier.

“I know,” Pa says as he looks around, “tell me if you find something interesting.”

Pa leaves Alex to her own devices as he looks around at all of the rusted and junked sports cars.

Alex wanders around the yard, grumbling to herself about the heat as she looks at different sports cars. The sight of a pale yellow car with not a hint of rust catches her eye. The car was missing a door and the other door hung limply open, the hood of the car was missing as were the internal parts that made the car run. The interior seats of the car were ragged and torn. For all intent and purposes, the car was just a hull.

“Found anything of interest yet, kid,” Pa says as he walks over Alex.

Pa looks at the car, a look of speculation and judgment on his face. He drops the cigarette to the ground and rubs it out. He walks over to the car and looks over it carefully.

“The car’s got potential,” he says, “the yellow’s gotta go though.”

He stands up straight and looks at Alex, “What do you think, Kid? She got potential, right?”

Alex steps closer to the car and silently runs her eyes over the car.

“Yeah.”

Pa nods his head and walks back towards the shack. He knocks on the door again. The bald man from before sticks his head out.

“You find something?”

“How much for ugly yellow 1967 Mustang?”

The bald man thinks for a second, “Well, it’s missing a lot of stuff. How about $8,000?”

Pa seems to think a minute before agreeing to the price, “Deal. I’ll have a truck come pick it up later today.”

The man nods before closing his door.

“Come on, kid,” Pa leads Alex back to his truck as he pulls out his bulky cell phone and dials a number.

“This is Covington,” he says into the phone, “I’d like to arrange a pickup at the junkyard on 90. A shitty looking 1967 Ford Mustang Coupe, the color yellow. Drop it off at my house, my garage… Thanks, Gary.”

Pa hangs up the phone and slips into the truck. Alex follows suit, sliding into the passenger seat.

“What do you need the car for,” Alex says as Pa gets back on the highway.

“Thought you could learn how to work on a car,” Pa says.

Alex nods, “Makes sense, I already know how to work on a bike.”

Pa chuckles, “Your grandma killed me when she found out I let you have the motorcycle.”

Alex cracks a smile, “It was good for my independence. Y’all didn’t worry about having to drive me to school anymore.”

“That’s true.”

* * *

**2009 March 17-Alabama**

A loud knock stirs Alex awake with a moan. Alex sticks her head under her pillow as the door opens.

“Get up, Kid,” Pa says, “I didn’t let you miss school on a Tuesday to just sleep in. Come downstairs. Your Grandma’s making breakfast.”

Pa closes the door behind him as he leaves. Alex tosses the pillow to the floor as she lets out a loud sigh and rolls out of bed. Alex gets dressed quickly and walks downstairs for breakfast. At the stove is an older woman with a mixture of white and grey hair at the stove making a late breakfast.

“Morning,” Alex mumbles out as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

The woman turns to Alex and says, “Good morning, sweetie. Happy Birthday!”

The woman opens her arms out in a hug which Alex graciously accepts.

“Thanks, Ma,” Alex says.

“You’re welcome, Alex,” the woman, Ma, says, “Your present is on the table.”

Alex smiles, “Thank you.”

Alex walks over to the kitchen table where a lone present sits. Alex slowly tears the paper off of the present to reveal a book,  _ Die Another Day _ .

“Thank you, Ma,” Alex says as she lays the book on the table and throws the wrapping paper away.

“Come here, kid,” Pa yells through the screen door.

Ma smiles at Alex.

“Go on, breakfast will be on the table when you get back.”

Alex gives her one last smile before walking out through the screen door. Alex sees Pa over by his garage, hands on his hips. Alex walks over to him.

“Morning,” Alex says.

Pa looks at Alex, “Kid.”

Pa reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, “Here. Happy 16th.”

Alex looks down at the keys that he gave her.

“Well, you gonna help me open the garage or are you just going to stand there,” Pa asks as he bends to open the garage door.

Alex hurries over to help and together they open the door, revealing the newly restored Mustang.

“Are you sure,” Alex asks?

Pa smiles, “It’s yours, kid. You helped fix it up.”

“Thank you.”

Pa nods, “At least it isn’t that shitty looking yellow anymore.”

Alex nods as her eyes roam the now slick black paint of the car.

“We did good.”

“Yeah, we did, kid.”

The roar of a vehicle on the road in front of the house makes Alex and Pa turn.

“Looks like the mail’s here,” Pa says, “Why don’t you go ahead inside and start on that late breakfast. I’ll get the mail.”

Alex nods and walks back to the house as Pa heads to the mailbox.

Ma is setting down a plate of food just as Alex comes back into the house.

“What do you think,” Ma asks?

“I love it,” Alex smiles, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ma turns to the sink, “Eat up, Alex.”

Alex sits down and starts to eat as Pa comes back into the house frowning looking at an envelope.

“This one is for you, Alex,” Pa the letter in front of Alex. 

Alex frowns at reading the sender’s name.

“I don’t want it,” Alex says, pushing the letter away from her.

Ma turns to Alex concerned.

“What do you want me to do with it,” Pa asks.

“I don’t care,” Alex mutters, “burn it if you want to.”

Ma looks at Pa with concern. Pa shrugs his shoulders. Ma picks the letter up from the table.

“Ok, sweetie,” Ma says.

Alex doesn’t respond, she just pushes her empty plate away and gets up.

“I’m going to go to Karate,” Alex says as she walks up the stairs to change clothes.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibbs gets more information on the body found at the Navy Yard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Five: 2020 May 18-Washington DC: NCIS Building**

The doors to autopsy hiss open and Gibbs walks in as Jimmy leans over the body that was found earlier.

“What have you got, Palmer?” 

Gibbs stops at the edge of the table watching Jimmy work. 

“Agent Gibbs,” Jimmy looks up from the body a little startled. 

Gibbs raises an eyebrow. 

“Right,” Jimmy says, “the body. There is a lot, more than we thought initially, I don’t know where to start.” 

“The beginning.”

“Right! Uh, I’ll start with the head. So as you can see the face of the body was severely smashed in which is what I initially thought was the cause of death but with a closer examination, it appears the victim died by a precise cut to the jugular,” Jimmy says as he shows Gibbs a deep gash on the neck, “Whoever killed the victim didn’t cause the blunt force trauma to the face until after the victim was dead. On another note, as I was taking hair and tissue samples from the victim, I noticed there weren’t any bits of teeth left in the face-head-skull-thing.”

Jimmy brings the magnifying glass down over the head area as Gibbs looks through it.

“As you already know, the victim’s hands and feet were badly burned and his toenails and fingernails were removed, but if you look at his wrists and ankles you can notice some slight bruising.”

“He was tied up,” Gibbs mutters.

“Right you are,” Jimmy says, “now, I could direct your attention a little further down. It seems like the killer really had a grudge.”

“Castrated him,” Gibbs says.

“From the looks of it,” Jimmy says with a wince, “it was done before he was killed.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, one more thing,” Jimmy says, “It looks like a rod might have been taken out of his left leg.”

Gibbs looks at the body with a look of determination before leaving autopsy and taking the elevator up to Kaise’s lab.

“Kaise,” Gibbs says in greeting as he walks into the lab.

“Gibbs,” Kaise turns from her computers, “You are just in time. DNA just came back, our John Doe downstairs is Marine Sargent Terrance Hughes.”

_ Beep! Beep!  _

“Oh! That’s the tissue samples that Jimmy sent,” Kaise says pulling up the results, “it appears that there was a trace amount of kerosene on the Marine Sargent’s hands and feet.”

“Someone dipped his hands and feet in kerosene?”

“Looks like it.”

“And the metal shard?”

“It’s made from Carbon Steel, possibly the tip of a knife.”

“Good work, Kaise,” Gibbs says as he leaves the lab.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback from Alex's childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Six: 2000 August 12-Alabama: A High School Gym**

“Come on, Alex,” a tall burly man with brown hair yells from the sides of the ring, “Sidekick her in the ribs!” 

A young, seven-year-old Alex dressed in a white karate uniform, a blue belt tied around her waist. A dark blue helmet covers Alex’s long brown hair and blue gloves cover her hands while blue shoes cover her feet. Alex is turned sideways, her right foot forward and her right hand down covering her ribs as her left hand is up in front of her face. 

Alex’s opponent is a young blonde girl about the same age as Alex. The girl is wearing pink gear and also has a blue belt.

The girl runs full force at Alex, her front hand held high above her head. Alex takes a small step back and leans her head out of the way as her right foot comes off the floor, slamming into the girl with pink gear’s ribs.

“Break,” an older gentleman with a black belt yell from the middle of the ring.

Alex and the girl stop and walk back to the center of the ring, Alex on one line and the girl on the other.

“Judge’s call,” the older gentleman yells.

The older gentleman points at Alex as the two black belts on the edges of the ring also point at Alex.

“Another point blue,” the older gentleman says.

“Good job, Alex,” the tall burly man yells, “Just one more point!”

“4,” the older gentleman points to Alex, “to 3,” the older man points to the girl.

The gentleman turns back to Alex, “You need one more point to win.”

Alex nods her head, not taking her eyes off of the girl across from her.

The gentleman turns to the girl, “And you need two more points to win.”

The girl nods.

The gentleman brings his hand between the two girls and as he brings his hand in a downward motion, he yells, “Fight!”

The two girls begin to move around the ring, sizing each other up as they calculate how to win the match without the other getting a point.

The girl fakes a rush towards Alex. Alex backs up but doesn’t bring her foot up.

Alex narrows her eyes towards the girl and fakes a lunge forward but sides steps on to a 45-degree angle as the girl punches at her. Alex brings her left hand high above her head and then down onto the girl’s headgear, a Chicago ridge hand.

“Break,” the older gentleman calls. 

Alex and the other girl head back to the center of the ring. The girl has unshed tears in her eyes.

“Judge’s call!”

The older gentleman and the two black belts on the edge of the ring point at Alex.

“Good job, Alex!”

“Point blue,” the older gentleman says, “5 to 3. Bow to me.”

Alex and the girl bow to the older gentleman.

“Bow to each other. Shake hands.”

The girls bow to each other and shake hands.

“Go sit down,” the older gentleman says as the man sitting in the corner of the ring with a piece of paper gets up and walks to the scoring table.

The tall burly man crouches down next to Alex.

“Good going, Champ,” the man says to Alex.

Alex spits her mouthpiece into her hands.

“Thanks, Dad! Did you see me dodge that punch! It was this close to me,” Alex says showing how close it was to her by putting her index finger and thumb almost together.

The man, Alex’s dad, smiles.

“I sure did,” he says, “you’re just a natural out there.”

Alex grins, “Do you think I am good enough to help you catch bad guys yet?”

He rubs Alex’s head, “You’re getting there, Champ.”

“May I have your attention,” the announcer says, “We have winners in ring number 4.”

The older gentleman tells Alex and the group of girls around Alex to stand up.

“In fourth place, Gwen Smith,” the announcer says as a little red-headed girl walks up to the older gentleman to accept her metal.

The older gentleman urges her to back up just a few steps but stay in the ring.

“In third place, Emma Knowles.”

A little raven-haired girl with a dimple walks up to receive her small trophy and then walks to stand by Gwen.

“In second place, Rose Alden.”

The little blonde girl that Alex just fought goes up to accept a trophy that is half of her size. Rose, the blonde girl, trudges over to where the other competitors are standing.

“In first place, Alex Covington.”

“Go,” Alex’s dad pushes her towards the older gentleman.

Alex walks up to him and he hands her a trophy that is a little taller than she is.

“Congratulations,” the older gentleman says.

Alex smiles, “Thank you!”

Alex moves to stand next to the other girls.

“Now, let’s have another round of applause for our competitors in ring number 4,” the announcer says as the gym erupts into applause.

The older gentleman then says, “Attention.”

All of the competitors in ring 4, stand up straight, hands down by their sides.

“Bow,” the gentleman says.

All of the competitors bow.

“Now, come shake the judges’ hands,” the gentleman says.

Alex leads the competitors to the judges and one by one they shake each of the judge’s hands. Alex is first finished and picks her trophy back up and walks back to her dad.

“Dad! Look,” Alex says.

Alex’s face goes to pretend surprise, “Wow! First place! You must be really good, Champ.”

“Can we go show, Mom?”

“Totally,” he says, “but let’s get you out of that gear first.”

“Okay!”

Alex starts taking off her headgear, gloves, and shoes as her dad put them in a gym bag.

“Alright, flip flops,” he says as he lays Alex’s small flip flops on the floor.

Alex quickly puts on her flip flops and picks up the trophy.

Alex’s dad throws the gym bag over his shoulder and then holds his hand out to Alex.

Alex takes it and pulls him out the door to his brand new truck.

Alex’s dad put the gym bag in the passenger seat as Alex climbs into the back seat to her booster seat. The trophy beside her. Alex’s dad helps Alex put the seat belt on.

“Alright, Champ,” he says as he climbs into the driver seat, “Let’s go.”

Alex’s dad backs out of the parking place and pulls onto the road.

“Can you play music, Dad,” Alex asks as she looks out the window.

Alex’s dad turns on the radio to a random station.

The drive didn’t take long. Alex’s dad stops the truck in front of a modest one-story house. Alex being impatient, quickly unbuckles the seat belt, grabs her trophy, and gets out of the truck. Alex runs up to the front door but waits at the door as she remembers she doesn’t have the house key.

“Hurry up, Dad!”

“I am coming, Champ,” Alex’s dad closes the driver door, the gym bag on his shoulder.

Alex’s dad unlocks the door and Alex rushes in.

“Mom,” Alex yells as she runs into the house.

“Shh, Alex. You’re mom might be sleeping,” Alex’s dad says.

Alex doesn’t see her mom in the living room. So, she runs to the master bedroom to look for her mom. Alex’s dad shakes his head at her antics and walks into the kitchen to get a bottle of water where he finds a note on the counter.

_ Water broke soon after you left this morning. I called my mom to take me to the hospital. Meet me there when you get back. _

“Hey, champ,” Alex’s dad yells as Alex skids into the kitchen.

“Dad! I can’t find Mom!”

He lets out a small chuckle, “Seems like your baby sibling wanted to come out today. Go get changed and we will go to the hospital to see Mom.”

“Ok, Dad!”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva learn a little more about their hotel murder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Seven: 2020 May 18-Washington DC: Hotel**

“Ah, Ziva, Tony,” Ducky says as he walks into the room with his medkit, “How is Tali?” 

“She is good, Ducky. She has been staying with Tony’s father the past week,” Ziva says as she gives Ducky a hug, a camera hanging around her neck.

“I didn’t know Senior was in town.” 

“He flew in the 11th,” Tony says as he sketches the crime scene, “said he missed spending time with his favorite granddaughter.”

Ducky sets his medical equipment next to the body on the floor, “I can’t blame him. Tali is one of a kind.”

Ducky puts on gloves as he says, “Now, let’s see what we have here.” 

“Agent DiNozzo,” a petite blonde with thick black-rimmed glasses and an NCIS that enters the room, “I went door to door as you asked. No one heard anything suspicious, just loud metal music earlier today.”

“How much earlier?”

“About two hours ago.”

“Ok, Probie,” Tony says, “put on some gloves. Bag and tag.”

The blonde nods and quickly puts on a pair of gloves. Ducky looks up from his work.

“How are you this evening, Agent Parker,” Ducky asks the blonde.

The young woman looks at Ducky, “I’m fine, Dr.Mall-Ducky.”

Ducky smiles at her before addressing Tony and Ziva, “It seems like our friend here has gone through quite a few ordeals as you can see his face has been smashed inward,” Ducky points out as he removes the liver probe, “And two hours ago would relatively fit the time of death.”

“The lovely smell that perforates the room is from the victim’s hands and feet,” Ducky picks up a burnt hand, “if you look closely, his fingernails and toenails seem to have been pulled from the root.”

“There also looks to a lot of blood coming from his chest,” Ducky gestures at soaked blood on the victim’s shirt and then points to the crotch of the pants, “and also his lower extremities.”

“I think I found something,” Agent Parker interrupts from next to the bed, “I found this under the bad.”

Ziva walks over to Agent Parker taking a picture of the bloody rope in her hand.

“He was most likely tied up,” Ducky says, “according to these bruises on his wrists and ankles.”

“This is just one piece of rope,” Ziva says, “Where is the other one?”

“The better question is why untie him and leave the rope,” Tony says.

Agent Parker leans down to look under the bed again and sees white powder in the carpet, “Agent David? I think I found something else.”

Ziva crouches down to look under the bed, “Tony, we are going to need a drug kit,” Ziva takes a picture of the white powder.

Agent Parker gets a little sample and puts it in a bag for evidence.

“I’ll go get it,” Tony says, “I’ll get the blacklight too. This room looks a little to clean.”

* * *

**2020 May 19-Washington DC, NCIS**

“What have you found, Ducky,” Tony asks as he and Ziva walk into autopsy. 

“Good morning, Tony, Ziva,” Ducky says as he looks up from the body, “it seems our young victim, was killed by a cut to the throat. The blunt force trauma happened after death it seems. When taking tissue samples from the facial region, I found a lot of different things: cartilage, blood, muscle, brain tissue, blood, but what I didn’t find was teeth.” 

“Do you think the killer could have removed them before death,” Ziva asks? 

“It’s quite possible as his fingernails and toenails were removed prior to death,” Ducky says. 

“What that,” Tony asks pointing out the large hole in of the pectoral muscles. 

“I am not sure, the hole isn’t too deep. It’s a flesh wound,” Ducky says, “It would have hurt him but it wouldn’t have killed him. But if you look lower, you can see his manhood has been snipped off.”

“Was it done before he was killed,” Ziva asks? 

Ducky sighs, “Yes.” Tony grimaces. 

Ziva glances over at him, “Are you okay, Tony?” 

Tony stares at where the victim’s lower extremities used to be and he lets out a small, “Yeah.” 

Ziva narrows her eyes at him before turning to Ducky, “Thank you, Ducky.” 

Ziva then turns and grabs Tony by the arm. Ziva leads Tony to the elevator where they go up to Kaise’s lab.

“Hello Kaise,” Ziva says as she enters the lab with Tony in tow, “What have you found?”

“Hello, Agents DiNozzo,” Kaise says with a smile, “I have confirmed that your victim is Navy Seaman Robert Price, who you have been investigating. I also confirmed that the bloody rope you found is one of the ropes that tied up Price to that chair in the hotel.”

Kaise moves to pick up the little bag of white powder, “The powder you found under the bed is cocaine. And whoever killed Price,” Kaise stands in front of the vinyl desk chair taken from the hotel, “tied Price to this chair before they killed him.”

Tony looks at the chair as Kaise continues.

“When you used that black light in the hotel, you saw trace amounts of fluids on the chair. When I tested part of the chair, it seemed the killer tried to cover his tracks, I found bleach on the chair.”

“He didn’t do a very good job cleaning up,” Tony mutters.

“He was probably in a hurry to leave,” Ziva says, “Thank you, Kaise.”

“Wait,” Kaise says, “One more thing. The tissue sample Ducky sent up from Price’s hands contain trace amounts of kerosene. The killer probably soaked Price’s limbs in it before setting him on fire.”


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before Alex's Senior Year of high school starts, Alex and her friend, Rose, sneak out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Eight: 2009 August 12-Alabama**

“So, school starts next week,” a teenage girl with blonde hair and brown eyes says.

“So what, Rose,” a teenaged Alex Covington replies as she drives down a dirt road, the moon high overhead. 

“So,” the girl, Rose, says, “we are going to be seniors! That’s what!” 

“It’s just another year. No big deal.” 

“Uh, yeah, it is. It's the last year of high school before we move away and never see any of our classmates again.” 

“And that’s a problem, why?” 

“You need to live a little, Alex,” Rose says as she pushes Alex’s shoulder a little. 

Alex snorts, “You don’t call this living a little? I literally snuck out of the house to pick your ass up. So, you could go to the lake at 1 am.”

“This isn’t really a risk, Alex. Sure, your grandma is going to be pissed but we all know Grandpa Covington will have your back and calm her down.”

Alex parks her Mustang in front of the lake.

“We’re here,” Alex says, “Go swim or whatever you came here to do. My ass is staying in the car.”

Rose grabs Alex’s forearm, “Come with me, Alex.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I am your best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Mmh,” Alex tilts her head back and scrunches her face up, “I don’t know about that.”

Rose rolls her eyes, “Come on, Covington.”

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“So, you have underclothes on, right?”

Alex gives Rose an annoyed look, “I’m not swimming in my bra and underwear.”

“Fine,” Rose huffs, “I guess you could always go skinny dipping.”

Rose gets out of the car and starts to take her shirt and shorts off revealing her bikini. Alex opens her door with a groan and takes off her top.

“In your dreams, Alden.”

Rose looks at Alex with an eyebrow raised.

“You’re swimming in that?”

Alex looks down at her sports bra and basketball shorts.

“Yeah, You got a problem with it?”

“I’m just glad no one else is here to see you or my popularity would severely be damaged right now.”

“Your popularity? We literally have like twenty people in our grade.”

“Yeah, so?” Rose looks thoughtfully at Alex, “Well, I guess your abs can make up for the fact that you look stupid in those oversized shorts.”

“Wow,” Alex says sarcastically, “that's the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Rose flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, “You’re welcome.”

Rose walks down to the edge of the lake as Alex follows her, shaking her head.

“So, are you going in,” Alex asks, “or are we going to be waiting here until the sunrises before you get your nerves up?”

Rose shoots Alex a glare before launching herself into the water.

“Shit,” Rose yells, “this water is freaking cold!”

Alex smirks, “I can imagine. It’s like 70 degrees outside right now.”

Rose’s teeth chatter, “Are you coming in, or have you chickened out already?”

Alex doesn’t answer but instead leaps into the lake.

“Fuck,” Alex mutters as her head comes up from under the water.

“Cold, right?”

Alex rolls her eyes, “Aren’t you a rocket scientist?”

Alex and Rose swim around the lake for a few minutes as they splash each other back and forth.

“You having fun, Alex?”

Alex gives Rose a small smile, “Just a bit.”

Rose swims up next to Alex and bites her lip.

“Are you okay?”

Alex turns her head slightly, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just, today is the ninth anniversary… your mom and baby sister.”

Alex looks down at the water, “Right.”

“You can talk to me, you know.”

Alex looks at Rose, unshed tears in her eyes, “It’s not like talking about it will change the past.”

“No, it won’t… but it might make you feel less burdened by it.”

Alex snorts, “Right, burdened.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“What do you want me to say? …Sure, my mom died giving birth to my sister, who also coincidently didn’t make it. Will that turn me into a monster? I have no fucking idea but apparently its in my goddamn genes! Is that what you want me to say?”

Rose bites her lip as a lone tear trails down her cheek, “You don’t have to yell at me, Alex. I am just trying to help you.”

“Well, I don’t need your help,” Alex says as she moves towards the edge of the lake, “I don’t need anyone’s help. I am fine.”

“You’re not fine, Alex,” Rose follows after her, “You pretend like you are but you’re not. That’s the thing about you, Alex. The world could be burning down but you’d act like everything is fine like the world around you isn’t going to shit.”

Alex lets out a small laugh, “Well, tell me how you really feel!”

“Ahhh,” Rose yells, “Seriously, Alex. Just someone, anyone, hell it doesn’t have to be me. Just talk to them, let them help you shoulder your burden.”

“I am fine, Rose. F-I-N-E, fine. I don’t need you or any other person digging around in my business talking to me as if I am broken. Because newsflash, I am not broken. Sure, I’ve been dealt some shitty hands but that doesn’t mean I am broken. Sure, it hurt, when it happened but it doesn’t hurt anymore. I’ve grown from it. It’s made me stronger. Why can’t you just see that?”

“Well, maybe if you had talked to me about how you feel, I would be able to. But as it is, I feel like I am locked out of a vault because y-you don’t let anyone in, not even me. You keep people at an arm’s length and when they think they are close to cracking you out of that vault. You just shove them away, as far as you can because inside you are scared of what they might find… You’re scared they’d leave you or even hate you if they knew the truth.”

Alex clenches her jaw and looks at her car.

“I’m leaving,” Alex says, “If you don’t want to walk home, get in the car.”

Alex gets into the car, sitting on her shirt, and slams the driver’s door shut. Alex starts the car just as Rose slides into the passenger seat, on top of her clothes. Alex cranks the radio up and drives back onto the road. The drive to Rose’s house is silent and the tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife. 

Alex pulls up in front of Rose’s house and parks her car. Neither one of them says anything and Rose makes no move to get out of the car. The radio blares music filling the car with ambient noise.

“I’m sorry,” Rose whispers, “I pushed you.”

Alex rests her head against the steering wheel.

“Just go,” Alex says, “Please.”

Rose opens the car door and slips out of the passenger seat.

“I really am sorry, Alex,” Rose says as she picks up her clothes.

Alex doesn’t look at her nor does she reply. Rose shuts the door and walks to her house. Alex lifts her head from the steering wheel and with her eyes watches Rose walk into her house and shut the door. Alex sighs and then backs her car out of the driveway and back onto the road to her own house.

Alex turns the radio down to a low whisper and then Alex slams her fist down on the horn. The horn blares. Alex hits it again and again and again. Each time harder than the last. Finally, she stops and takes a deep breath. Alex turns the radio back up.

Alex notices police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance in front of her house when she pulls into the yard. A mixture of red and blue lights light up Alex’s grandparent’s house. Alex hurriedly opens her door and grabs her shirt from the driver seat. Alex slips the shirt over her head as she runs to the house. Alex sees her grandpa, Pa, being loaded into the back of the ambulance. Alex drops to her knees, her hand goes to her mouth, and tears leak from her eyes.

“Shh,” Ma consoles as she comes up behind Alex, running her fingers through Alex’s long wet hair.

“W-what happened?”

“He had a heart attack.”

“Will he be okay?”

Ma sighs as she hugs Alex’s wet body to her own.

“I’m afraid not sweetie,” Ma whispers, “the ambulance was too late.”

“Where are they taking him then?”

“The funeral home,” Ma says, “We will have to make arrangements in the morning… Come on inside, you’re wet. I don’t want you catching a cold, alright?”

Alex stands up on shaky feet and nods as she trudges inside the house. Ma follows her.

“Why don’t you go wash up,” Ma says, “I’ll make us an early breakfast.”

Alex just nods as she walks upstairs to the bathroom. Alex closes the bathroom door behind her and leans against the sink. Alex looks at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is wet, her eyes are red, and her cheeks are tear-stained. Alex bites her lip, hard. Blood starts to run down her chin but Alex makes no move to wipe it. She just keeps staring at her reflection. 

Alex closes her eyes and stops biting her lip. Alex opens her eyes and wipes at the tears leaking from her eyes. Alex sighs and opens the medicine cabinet. She removes a pair of scissors. Alex closes the cabinet and looks from the scissors to the mirror. Alex brings the scissors up to her hair and starts cutting the long locks away. The long hair falls onto the ground.

When Alex is done, her hair is short, a boy cut with sweeping bangs in the front but the sides and back relatively short. Alex runs her hands through her hair letting any remaining hair fall to the floor. 

Satisfied, Alex sets the scissors down on the sink and removes her clothes before getting into the shower.


	9. Chapter nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's better if you join forces to track down a serial killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Nine: 2020 May 20-Washington DC: NCIS Building**

“What do we got,” Gibbs asks as he sits down at his desk. 

McGee, Bishop, and Torress look at each other. 

“Well,” Gibbs asks? 

“I finally got the footage from the security camera,” McGee says, “There was no record of May 18th.” 

“No record?” 

“It’s like someone, either erased the footage or the camera didn’t record that day. I sent it to Kaise for more analysis.” 

“What about other security cameras on the Navy Yard,” Gibbs asks? 

“Boss, that will take days to look through all of the camera footage,” McGee argues. 

“Do it,” Gibbs says and turns to Bishop, “Bishop.” 

“Marine Sargent Terrance Hughes, 29, he was stationed at Camp Lejeune, he was on leave when he died,” Bishop says.

“Originally from Virginia. He attended two years of college before he dropped out and joined the Marines,” Torres interjects, “He also had to have a metal rod put in his leg after an incident in Iraq.”

“Why would the killer take the rod out of his leg,” Bishop asks?

“Maybe, to make it harder to Id him,” McGee says, “because on top of that his hands and feet were burned, teeth removed, and face beaten in.”

Torres leans back in his chair.

“You know,” Torres says, “We have interviewed everyone who was even remotely in the area of the scene but no one heard or saw anything.”

Bishop leans forward on her desk, “What if Sargent Hughes wasn’t killed on the Navy Yard but somewhere else?”

“It’s possible,” McGee says, “There wasn’t nearly enough blood at the scene to account for all of the Sargeant’s injuries.”

“And with all of the torture he suffered, someone would have heard him.”

“If he was already dead before he got to the scene,” Gibbs says, “how did the killer get the body past security?”

_ Ring! Ring!  _ The phone on Gibb’s desk blares.

“Gibbs,” he answers, there is a slight pause before Gibb’s hangs up the phone and heads towards Director Vance’s office.

* * *

“Seaman Robert Price,” Tony says as he brings the picture of the victim up on the screen, “What do we know? Go.” 

“21, originally from Texas,” Ziva reads. 

“The Lone Star State,” Tony interprets, “Yee-haw!” 

Ziva sends Tony a glare before continuing, “entered the Navy right after high school.” 

“It must have been a tradition,” Agent Parker says meekly, “His dad and grandfather were also in the Navy.” 

“Both of his parents are still alive,” Ziva continues, “no siblings.” 

Tony nods. 

“What do you got, Probie,” Tony asks turning to Agent Parker. 

“Seaman Price’s shipmates said that Price didn’t have a girlfriend but he liked to have fun with girls and party.” 

“Sounds like someone, I use to know,” Ziva mutters. 

Tony ignores her and says, “That could be why there were drugs found in his hotel room. Maybe, he got in too deep with the drugs, couldn’t pay his dealer or something, so decided to lay low. Dealer caught up to him and-” Tony makes a slicing motion across his throat.

“I’ll talk to his shipmates again,” Ziva says, “see if Price had any particular place he liked to party.”

Tony nods, “Do we know anything about the flesh wound on Price’s chest?”

“It could have been his tattoo,” Agent Parker says as she pulls up a picture of a shirtless Seaman Price with a tattoo on his chest.

“That’s a good lead. Probie, go ask Kaise to run a tox screen on Price’s blood and tell her to take samples from the wound on his chest. See if she can confirm your theory.”

“Yes, Agent DiNozzo,” Agent Parker says as she picks up her desk phone.

***

**NCIS Building: Vance’s Office**

_ Knock! Knock! _

“Come in!”

Gibbs opens the door.

“You wanted to see me?”

Director Vance looks up from his desk.

“Gibbs,” Director Vance leans back in his chair, “There seems to be a case that is similar to the one you and your team are working on.”

Gibbs lifts his chin up.

“How similar?”

“Very.”

“What agency has the case?”

“We do,” Vance says as a knock is heard, “come in.”

Tony opens the door.

“Gibbs,” Tony says, “Director, you wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, Agent DiNozzo,” Vance says, “I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest if your team and Agent Gibb’s team, work together on these cases.”

Gibbs regards Vance before walking out of the office.

“Come on DiNozzo,” Gibbs says.

Tony hurries after Gibbs, “Coming boss!”

A faint, “I’m not your boss anymore,” is heard.

Vance lets out a small chuckle before going back to the papers on his desk.

***

“DiNozzo’s team will be helping with the investigation,” Gibbs says as he sits down at his desk.

“Why,” Torres asks, “We got this under control.”

“Vance thinks our cases may be connected,” Gibbs says as Tony, Ziva, and Agent Parker walk into Gibbs’ team office space.

“So, who wants to go first,” Tony asks, “...McGee?”

McGee sends Tony a dirty look but brings up their victim’s file on the tv.

“Marine Sargent Terrance Hughes,” McGee starts, “His body was found in the Navy Yard two days ago.”

McGee brings up pictures from the crime scene showing Hughes’s body, his face beaten in, hands and feet burned on top of the lack of fingernails and toenails.

“As you can see he had a lot of things done to him,” Torres jumps in, “Face smashed in, burns on the hands and feet, fingernails and toenails were pulled.”

“But he didn’t die by any of those things,” Bishops says, “He died from a cut to the throat.”

“After Jimmy examined Sargent Hughes further, he found the Sargent had been castrated and the metal rod he had put in his leg after an incident in Iraq had been removed from his leg,” McGee says.

“There was nothing found at the scene of the crime except a small carbon steel piece, possibly from the killer’s knife,” Torres says.

“There’s not much blood at the crime scene,” Ziva says.

“Our theory is the Sargent was killed somewhere else and was put in the Navy Yard,” Bishop says.

“Makes sense,” Tony says and then turns to Agent Parker, “Probie.”

“Uh-right,” Agent Parker stutters, “Seaman Robert Price. He was found dead at a hotel downtown.”

“Price didn’t report to duty two weeks ago,” Ziva starts, “We tracked to the hotel last week. Nothing made sense about why he disappeared and didn’t show up for duty. Tony and I went undercover and observed him.”

“He didn’t come down to dinner the other day,” Tony picks up, “So we went to his hotel room. Found him dead on the floor, blood everywhere. Face bashed in, hands and feet burned, no fingernails or toenails.”

“Ducky said Price had also been castrated and died by a cut across the jugular,” Ziva says.

“K-kaise confirmed that it was a tattoo on his chest,” Agent Parker says, “but his tox screen came back negative for drugs.”

“Let compile all of our information together,” Gibbs says just as his phone rings.

Gibbs answers, “Gibbs… Be right there.”

Gibbs hangs up his phone, “Dead Petty Officer in Rock Creek Park.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex returns to her house wounded in the early hours of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Ten: 2020 May 20-Washington DC: Alex’s House**

_ Clink!  _

“Shit,” Alex mutters as she reaches down to pick up her fallen keys, “stupid keys.” 

Alex grabs a hold of the keys with her right-hand.

“Ahhh,” Alex grunts out as her left-hand clutches her abdomen. 

Alex slowly straightens up and leans heavily on the door frame as she inserts the key into the door. She unlocks the door before shouldering the door open with the right shoulder, her right-hand brushing over the white paint of the door leaving a faint blood trail. Alex turns on the light switch as she staggers through the doorway into the kitchen, throwing open cabinet doors as her left-hand presses tight against her stomach over her blood-soaked shirt.

“Gotcha,” Alex mumbles as she pulls a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet.

Alex leans up against the counter, her shirt smearing against the bottom cabinets as her left-hand grasps the neck of the bottle tightly and her right-hand turns the cap, opening the bottle. Alex throws the bottle cap to the floor before pushing off of the counter with her right-hand as her left goes back to her abdomen. She then grabs the bottle that is now smeared with blood and takes a long sip.

“Ah,” Alex sighs before mumbling, “Medkit.”

Alex stumbles out of the kitchen, past the living room and into the hallway, straight to the bathroom. Alex places the bottle of whiskey on the bathroom sink as she bends over to retrieve the first aid kit from under the sink.

Alex tucks the kit under her left arm, kicks the cabinet door shut, and snatches her bottle of whiskey off of the sink. Alex stumbles back down the hallway and into the living room. Alex sets her bottle of booze on the coffee table before taking the first aid kit, which now has a good bit of blood on it, from under her arm and sets it next to the bottle of whiskey. 

Alex starts patting down her pockets, pulling things out as she finds them: A phone, a wallet, a pocket knife, a zippo, a 9mm Glock 19, and two mags. Alex lays the contents of her pockets on the table before picking the pocket knife back up and opening it. The tip of the pocket knife looks to have been broken off.

Alex brings the knife to the end of her shirt and starts to cut it up the middle. Alex takes a sharp breath and pauses the knife halfway through cutting her shirt. Alex’s face pales, a cold sweat breaks out across her forehead. Alex closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. Alex opens her eyes and finishes cutting off her shirt, dropping it to the floor just as she collapses on the couch. Alex lays on the couch staring up at the ceiling.

“Ah,” she grunts.

Alex touches her abdomen and brings that hand up to her face. The hand is dripping blood. 

Alex closes her eyes, “Shit.”

Alex struggles as she sits up on the couch.

Alex opens the first aid kit, “Needle, needle, needle. I need the freaking needle…”

Alex finally grabs the small suture needle and thread.

“Alcohol,” Alex mutters as she sets the suture needle and thread to the side and continues to look through the kit for alcohol wipes.

“Shit,” Alex shoves the first aid kit off the table and covers her face in her hands, blood smearing on her face.

“Alex, are you okay?”

Alex looks up from her hands as Vero walks into the living room rubbing her eyes and her hair mussed up. Vero’s running shorts and tank top are a bit wrinkled.

Vero suddenly stops just in front of the couch, her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.

“Alex!”

Vero rushes to Alex’s side, coaxing her to lay down on the couch.

“What the hell happened to you,” Vero asks as she takes in the small cut above Alex’s right eye, two bloody, skinned knuckles and a deep gash across Alex’s abdomen that oozes blood everywhere.

Alex winces, “You should see the other guy.”

Vero runs her hands through her hair, “Stay here, I will be right back.”

Vero rushes out of the living room. Alex stares at the ceiling as her breathing shakes. Alex turns her head towards the coffee table and eyes the bottle of whiskey. Alex reaches out, her hand shaking. Vero comes back into the room with a pail of water, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a hand towel thrown over her shoulder, before Alex’s hand can grasp the bottle.

“Nope! You aren’t having any of that,” Vero says as she moves the bottle out of the way and she sits down in its place.

“That’s no fun,” Alex says with a little pout.

“Okay,” Vero says as she sets a pail of water on the floor and a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the coffee table beside her. She takes the hand towel off of her shoulder and folds it.

“You might want to bite on this,” Vero says as she holds the towel in front of Alex’s mouth.

Alex looks at the offering before looking up at Vero and giving her a small shake of the head.

Vero rolls her eyes.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Vero says as she lays the towel on the coffee table and picks up the rubbing alcohol.

Vero slides off the table onto her knees. She pops open the alcohol top and leans over Alex.

“Last chance,” Vero says, nodding to the towel.

“Not a chance,” Alex mutters.

Vero tilts the alcohol over Alex’s abdomen. 

“Shit,” Alex hisses through gritted teeth.

The clear alcohol mixes with Alex’s vibrant red blood. Vero tilts the bottle back up straight.

“I warned you,” Vero says as she puts the bottle back on the coffee table and picks up the suture needle and Zippo. Vero lights zippo and holds it under the suture to disinfect it.

“You know, this would be a whole lot more sanitary with gloves, right,” Vero asks as she threads the suture.

“I am so sorry I ran out of gloves,” Alex rolls her eyes then winces, “You know I could do this myself, right? I’ve done it before.”

“I’m not helping you because I think you aren’t capable. I am helping you because I care, Alex,” Vero says as she starts to stitch Alex’s abdominal wound.

“Ah,” Alex grunts.

“Alex, why won’t you just tell me what you were doing. I can help you.”

“I have it handled, Vero.”

“Handled? You call this handled? Coming back here basically in pieces. It won’t kill you to ask for help, Alex. In fact, it might actually save you a few wounds.”

Alex winces, “Can I have a sip of whiskey?”

Vero gives Alex a look.

“Please, Veronica.”

Vero sighs, “Fine.”

Vero hands Alex the bottle as she finishes her last stitch. Vero lays the suture needle down on the coffee table before reaching her hand down into the pail of water. She withdraws a rag and wrings it out over the pail. Vero grabs Alex’s chin and turns her head towards Vero. Alex closes her eyes. Vero starts gently cleaning Alex’s face with the rag. 

“You can trust me, Alex.”

“I know…”

Vero rinses out the rag and moves to gently wash Alex’s hands.

“What are you afraid of then?”

Alex doesn’t answer.

Vero rinses out the rag and starts to clean Alex’s abdomen.

“You know, I was once a part of the CIA, right? I helped save your ass actually a few times if I remember correctly.”

“That may be true but if you remember, I am kind of a loner.”

Vero cracks a small smile, “A loner, you say? I wonder who that was that teamed up with NCIS a couple of years ago then.”

“That was different.”

Vero drops the rag into the water pail. Vero then starts putting gauze on Alex’s wounds and butterfly stripes on the cut above her eyebrow.

“How do you feel,” Vero asks?

“Like shit,” Alex says, “How do I look?”

Vero smiles a bit, “Like shit.”

Alex grins at Vero before draining the rest of the whiskey.

“Come on,” Vero says standing up, “it’s 4 am. You need to get some sleep.”

Vero helps Alex get up off the couch, her arm around Alex’s waist and Alex’s arm around her neck.

“You know this might be easier if I carry you,” Vero says as she leads Alex down the hallway.

“What? And me, lose my street cred? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know what kind of street cred you are talking about,” Vero says as she helps Alex sit on the edge of the bed, “but okay.”

Alex grins up at her, “You know, my-I can beat the shit out of you, tough-guy demeanor.”

Alex unbuckles her belt and unbuttons her pants.

Vero snorts and shakes her head, “Whatever. Need help?”

Alex winces, “Yeah.”

Vero leans down, “Hold onto my shoulders.”

Alex grabs ahold of Vero’s shoulders and Vero helps her stand up as Vero pulls down Alex’s pants revealing Alex’s boxer briefs. Vero helps Alex sit back on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know why you wear those,” Vero says as she kicks Alex’s pants into a corner.

“I’ll have you know, they are very comfy. More so than those thongs you liked to wear.”

Vero rolls her eyes, “Agree to disagree,” Vero holds up a t-shirt and basketball shorts, “You want your pjs?”

“Nah, I think I am good in this for tonight.”

“Ok,” Vero says as she walks towards the bedroom door, “good night then.”

“Vero.”

Vero stops in the doorway, “Yeah?”

Alex takes a deep breath and licks her lips, “Can you stay with me tonight? …I don’t want to accidentally pull a stitch or something going to the bathroom.” 

“Sure,” Vero turns around and closes the door and slides into bed next to Alex, “Good night, Alex.”

“Night, Vero.”

  
  



	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the killer is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> ***WARNING: This Chapter Mentions Rape***
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Eleven: 2020 May 20-Washington DC: Rock Creek Park**

“What do we got,” Gibb says as he makes his way over to Jimmy and Ducky with Tony following close behind. 

“Jethro,” Ducky says looking up. 

“Agent Gibbs,” Jimmy says. 

“Ducky. Palmer,” Gibbs says as he crouches down. 

The victim was of a woman or at least the victim had the figure of a woman and wore a Navel female dress uniform. 

“Ducky. Autopsy Gremlin,” Tony says as he crouches beside Gibbs. 

“Tony,” Ducky and Jimmy both say. 

“The victim appears to be a female Petty Officer, Third Class by the looks of it,” Jimmy says as he points out the symbol on the uniform, “but I can’t say for certain. She’s not wearing any dog tags or any other identification.” 

The victim, like the others before her, has a bludgeoned hole where her face should be, and her hands and feet are burned.

“From the looks of she has similar contusions and wounds as the other two victims,” Ducky says, “Her head was beaten in and looks like the cause of death, but if its anything like the other two victims there will be a cut across the throat that actually killed her.” 

“Her hands and feet were burned like the other victims,” Jimmy says picking up one of her hands, “her fingernails and toenails were pulled also like before.” 

“Is there bruising on her wrists and ankles,” Gibbs asks?

Ducky takes out his magnifying glass and looks at the victim’s wrists carefully and then he looks down at the victim’s ankles.

“Yes, there is some slight bruising on her wrists,” Ducky says.

“Looks like we have ourselves a serial killer,” Tony says.

“Time of Death,” Gibbs asks?

“Approximately, between 5 to 7 hours ago,” Jimmy says, “So somewhere between 0200 and 0400 this morning.”

Gibbs nods and stands up from the body as Tony continues to observe the victim.

“Hey, Gibbs,” Bishop yells a few paces away, “I found something.”

Gibbs walks over to where Bishop is standing in front of what appears to have been a scuffle. Agent Parker is beside Bishop taking pictures. The scuffle was right next to a small drop into a creek.

“Looks like there was a struggle that happened here recently,” Bishop says, “Maybe the victim fought back.”

McGee walks up just as Bishop finishes her sentence.

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” McGee says, “There isn’t enough blood on the ground that might suggest that the victim was killed here.”

Something on the ground catches Bishop’s attention. Bishop bends down to pick it up.

“How do you explain this,” Bishop holds up a piece of glass about the size of a nickel. The glass has smudges of blood coating the glass. Agent Parker takes pictures of the glass and Bishop puts the glass in a small bag as she tags it.

“Maybe, it’s from another incident,” Agent Parker mutters, “Maybe this happened when the killer took her somewhere else to kill her.”

“It’s a good theory but that still wouldn’t make sense,” McGee says, “Look at the marks on the ground.” 

McGee points out two distinct marks that look almost like something was dragged or pushed over the small drop and into the small creek below.

Gibbs nods, “Have a team check it out.”

“Come on, Bishop,” McGee says.

“Uh, I wore my good shoes today,” Bishop says as she follows McGee down the small drop.

“Gibbs,” Torres says as he and Ziva walk up.

“We finished canvassing the area,” Ziva says, “no sign of anything.”

“No wallet, no Id, nothing,” Torres emphasizes.

Gibbs nods as Tony walks up.

“What happened here,” Tony asks?

“Scuffle,” Gibbs mutters as he walks back to his car.

* * *

**Washington DC: NCIS**

“What do you have, Ducky,” Gibbs asks a little later that day as he walks into autopsy.

“Jethro,” Ducky says, “just like I thought at the crime scene, the victim did die by a cut to the throat as you can see here.”

Ducky leans over the body a little pointing out the cut to the throat.

“And like the other victims, I didn’t find any trace of teeth when I took a tissue sample from her head wound. Now, if you remember the other victims had their lower extremities cut off but if you haven’t already noticed the victim here isn’t male.”

“I haven’t noticed, Duck,” Gibbs mutters.

“Well,” Ducky continues, “this young lady, instead looked like she has suffered vaginal scarring.”

“Rape?”

“It is hard to say,” Ducky says, “I didn’t find any trace of sperm but-”

“He could have used a condom,” Gibbs interrupts.

“Yes, it’s possible.”

“Thanks, Duck,” Gibb says as he leaves autopsy and heads to Kaise’s lab.

“Kaise,” Gibb says, “What have you found.”

“Gibbs,” Kaise pulls up a woman’s photo, “Meet Petty Officer, Third Class Larrisa Moore.”

“This our vic?”

“DNA test confirms,” Kaise says, “Just like our other two victims, Petty Officer Moore had traces of kerosene in the tissue samples from her hands and feet.”

“What about the piece of glass Bishop found?”

Kaise turns to her computer bringing up a magnified version of the piece of glass.

“This here is glass from prescription lenses,” Kaise says, “want to take a guess on who owns that type of prescription?”

“Moore?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Got it in one,” Kaise says, “Petty Officer Moore owns that type of prescription glasses and with that type of prescription she should be wearing them daily. But guess what, her glasses were not at the crime scene.”

“What about the blood on the glass?”

“Bloods or would it still be blood? No matter, the glass had two different blood types on it. One I was able to match to our victim and I am still running the other through-”

_ Ding _ !

“I take that back,” Kaise says, “I just got a hit.”

Kaise pulls up the result, the picture on the file shows the face of a very familiar short-haired brunette.

“And the winner is: Alex Covington,” Kaise says.

Kaise turns to Gibbs but he is not in sight.

“Huh,” Kaise turns back to her computer.

* * *

“Kaise gave me a call a few minutes ago,” Tony says to the rest of the team, “The victim’s name is Petty Officer Larrisa Moore.”

“Petty Officer, Third Class Larrisa Moore,” Bishop says, “24 years old. Born and raised in DC.”

“She joined the Navy at 18,” Agent Parker says, “She has no parents, siblings, or spouse on record.”

“Says here, she grew up in foster care,” Torres adds, “her mom died in labor.”

“I just pulled up her phone records,” McGee says, “She called a restricted number a week before she died.”

“Can you see who she called,” Ziva asks?

“No, it’s blocked even from me,” McGee says.

“Is there any way to find out who might have called?”

“I could try to ping the phone if it’s turned on,” McGee says as he starts typing away.

“Hold that,” Gibbs says as he rushes to his desk and starts putting his gun in its holster, “McGee, I want you and Bishop to go to Langley.”

McGee and Bishop stand and start getting their stuff together.

“What for, boss,” McGee asks?

“I want you to find Alex Covington,” Gibbs says.

“What for,” Tony asks, concerned?

“The CIA agent from a couple of years ago,” Torres asks?

“Her blood was found at the scene,” Gibbs says, “Ziva, do a search on Covington. I want an address.”

“On it!”

“Just because you found her blood at the scene doesn’t make her a bad guy,” McGee says, “She could have a reasonable explanation for this.”

“I found an address,” Ziva says as she writes out the address on a piece of paper.

Gibbs grabs the piece of paper from Ziva.

“Torres, with me,” Gibbs says as he heads to the elevator.

Torres, McGee, and Bishop following behind him.

“This doesn’t seem right,” Tony says, “I have a bad feeling.”

“Tony,” Ziva says as she continues looking at Alex’s information, “remember Israel. After your fight at Mossad, Alex refused to stay at the hotel any longer.”

“We went to a safe house,” Tony says, “If Alex really is into something. She wouldn’t be at the address you gave Gibbs. She’d be at one of her safe houses… But which one is the question.”

A look of realization crosses Ziva’s face, “I think I might have an idea. Come on, Tony.”

Ziva grabs her badge and gun.

“Probie,” Tony says as he follows Ziva to the elevator, “I want you to do some more research!”


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to 2018, Alex's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Twelve: 2018 December 5**

“Vero,” Alex says as soon as she steps off the elevator, “I need to speak to Director Sanders.” 

Vero cracks a smile, “You aren’t about to go snooping again are you?” 

Alex grits her teeth, “I need to speak to her, now.” 

The smile slips off Vero’s face, “Geez… No need to get snappy.” 

Vero picks up her desk phone, “Madame Director. You have a visitor who needs to speak with you urgently.” 

Vero pauses and then says, “Officer Covington, Madame Director.” 

Vero pauses again. Alex starts shifting from one foot to the other. 

“I will let her know,” Vero says and then Vero hangs up the phone, “You can go in, Alex.” 

Alex stalks to the door and throws it open. Director Sanders is at her desk looking at her computer. Alex slams the door behind her. 

“Officer Covington. What a pleasant sur-” 

“Cut the shit,” Alex interrupts.

A dark look passes over Director Sander’s face, “Have a seat, Officer Covington.”

Alex drops down onto the chair.

“You had no right,” Alex says.

Director Sanders regards her, “No right for what?”

“You know what. He doesn’t deserve to be let free.”

“I don’t have time for this childish behavior,” Director Sanders looks at her computer, “The system is fair. He did his time.”

“He has 23 more years left in his sentence,” Alex says.

“He is changed,” Director Sanders says, “He has had good behavior for the last twelve years and he has given us some valuable information in exchange for his early release.”

Alex slumps in the chair, “You did this.”

Director Sanders glances up, “So, what if I did. It shouldn’t matter to you. You’re not a child anymore, Officer Covington. You are 27 years old, act like it.”

Alex stands up suddenly, her face red, “I can’t do this anymore! I quit.”

Director Sanders leans back in her chair, “Your reason?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“The first straw was my one and a half month suspension before you even got around to clearing me for a general clearance desk duty job. The second straw was assigning me mountains of paperwork daily for no good goddamn reason. But this, this is the final straw. You are mad at me for a lot of reasons but yet you hide behind reasons that you have no connection to. You say I let the biggest arms dealer in the world go loose but yet you let this-this psychopathic drug dealing murderer go free without any regrets,” Alex takes a deep breath, “I can’t be apart of that. That is why I quit.”

Alex removes her CIA issued gun and credentials from her pocket. She lays them on the desk in front of Director Sanders. Alex then turns on her heels and walks to the office door her hand on the handle.

“One day, you will realize how badly you screwed, Director,” Alex says coldly.

Alex steps out of the office shutting the door behind her with care. Alex straightens her sports jacket as Vero looks at her with a look of confusion.

“You okay,” Vero asks?

Alex bites her lip as she walks up to Vero’s desk.

“Veronica,” Alex swallows, “Vero, listen to me. I know this isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life. You want to be out there, undercover in the midst of a dangerous mission. The adrenaline and fear of getting caught, driving you to complete your mission. If you ever want to actually achieve that goal instead of wasting your potential behind this desk. You need to promise me something.”

Vero tilts her head in confusion.

“Promise me, you won’t wait for me to someday regain my active undercover status.”

“Alex?”

Alex’s eyes fill with water and Alex says barely above a whisper, “Promise me.”

Vero bites her bottom lip and sighs, “I promise.”

Alex nods and quickly makes her way to the elevator. Vero watches her walk away. The elevator doors shut and Alex wipes at her eyes.

* * *

A knock startles Alex out of her nap. There are empty bottles of whiskey littering the floor beside the couch that Alex lays on.  _ Knock! Knock! _ Alex rubs the sleep from her eyes and stands from the couch.  _ Knock! Knock!  _

“I’m coming,” Alex yells as she makes her way to the front door.

Alex swings the door open, “Can I help you-”

The words die on Alex’s tongue as Alex looks at Vero standing in front of her.

“What are you doing here,” Alex asks?

“I am here to talk to you.”

Alex backs up and lets Vero through the door. Alex shuts the door and leads Vero to the livingroom. Alex picks up the empty bottles as Vero sits on the couch.

“What do you need to talk about,” Alex asks as she throws the bottles away.

Vero leans back into the couch and crosses her arms.

“What are we going to do?”

Alex pauses mid-sit and turns to Vero.

“What?”

“You quit,” Vero says, “so, I did too.”

Alex stands up and starts to pace the floor in front of Vero.

“You shouldn’t have quit. You loved it there! You were going to do great there. You-”

“You weren’t there,” Vero interrupts.

Alex stops, “Just because I quit, doesn’t mean you had to quit, Vero.”

“That maybe be true,” Vero says, “but why stay when you aren’t there. You are the only truly decent person I have met there. You actually have morals and you feel the guilt if something goes wrong. You will, also, fight for what’s right, no matter the consequences. So, let me ask again, what are we going to do?”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who will find Alex first?  
> McGee and Bishop or Gibbs and Torres?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Thirteen: 2020 May 20-Langley, VA: CIA Headquarters**

“Well,” McGee says, “We’re here.” 

“Yeah,” Bishop replies as they get out of the car, “Have you ever been here?” 

“No, but Tony has told me about it”, McGee says as they step into a bland lobby area, “You know, it doesn’t look all that intimidating,”

“Yeah, well Tony likes to pull your chain, Tim.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Name, Id, and business,” a security guard asks from his place beside the metal detectors. 

“Uh, hi,” Bishop looks down at the security guard’s name tag, “Josh. I’m Elenor Bishop and this is Timothy McGee, NCIS. We were just hoping to speak to someone about an officer that works here.” 

Bishop and McGee hand the security guard, Josh, their Id, and badges. 

Josh looks at them before saying, “Excuse me,” and walking over to the secretary at the front desk. 

Josh and the secretary converse in low whispers before the secretary picks up the phone on her desk. The secretary talks to whoever is on the other side of the phone for a few minutes before hanging up and telling Josh something. Josh nods and walks back over to McGee and Bishop. Josh hands McGee and Bishop their Ids and Badges back.

“You’ll have to go through the metal detector,” Josh says, “and leave your weapons with Carly over there.” Josh nods at the secretary.

“Only approved personnel are allowed to have weapons on the premises,” Josh explains as he holds out a bin.

“Thank you,” Bishop says as she places her metal items and gun in the bin and Josh puts it through the scanner.

Bishop walks through the metal detector and reclaims her stuff. McGee follows suit, then both McGee and Bishop go to the secretary, Carly, and hands over their guns.

“Thank you,” Carly says and in return gives each of them a visitor’s badge, “See that elevator down the hall?”

“Yes,” McGee says.

“Take that elevator to the top floor,” Carly says, “You want to speak to the lady at the desk. Tell her who you are and she will let you in to speak to the director.”

“Thank you,” Bishop says as she and McGee walk to the elevator and follow Carly’s instructions.

“I wonder who the new director is,” McGee says.

Bishop looks at McGee in confusion, “You don’t know?”

“No? Why would I?”

“I thought you were like friends with Alex?”

“No, not really. Sure, I met her a few times a couple of years ago when she was helping with Ziva’s case but we weren’t really that close. She was more Tony and Ziva’s friend. Heck, she was even more so Gibbs’ friend than mine.”

“But still if she talked to them, shouldn’t you know who the director is? Or at the very least, shouldn’t one of them have been able to call her up and ask her to come in?”

“Truthfully, I don’t think Alex has spoken to them since all that happened a few years ago,” McGee says as the elevator dings.

Bishop and McGee step out of the elevator and are greeted by a blonde receptionist.

“Hi, how can I help you,” the lady says.

“Elenor Bishop, NCIS.”

“Timothy McGee, also NCIS.”

“Right, the director is waiting for you,” the lady says, “go on in.”

McGee and Bishop move towards the door to the director’s office.

“I sure hope this director isn’t like the last one,” McGee mutters as he knocks on the door.

“Come in,” a voice calls out.

“Here’s to hoping,” Bishop says as McGee opens the door.

An older lady with glasses is sitting behind a desk, a stack of papers in front of her.

“NCIS,” the lady asks?

“Yes, ma’am,” McGee says, “I’m Agent McGee and this is-”

“Agent Bishop,” Bishop says.

“Pleasure,” the older lady says, “Have a seat. I’m Director Sanders.”

McGee and Bishop sit down in the armchairs that are in the front of the director’s desk.

“I was told, you had some questions about one of my officers.”

“Yes, Alex Covington,” Bishop says.

Director Sanders purses her lips, “I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“Ma’am,” McGee asks with a confused look.

Director Sanders sets her glasses on her desk.

“I am afraid Alex Covington doesn’t work here anymore. She hasn’t for almost a year and a half.”

* * *

**Washington DC: Alex’s House**

Gibbs parks his car in front of a modest one-story brick house with a garage. Gibbs and Torres get out of the car and walk towards the front of the house.

“You take the back,” Gibbs says as he pulls out his gun.

Torres nods and makes his way around the back of the house. Gibbs takes a deep break and silently counts to three before kicking down the front door, gun at the ready. Gibbs walks into the house and the first thing he notices is the dried blood on the floor as Gibbs’ eyes roam the house he notices a bloody shirt and an assortment of medical supplies on the floor. The coffee table is littered with miscellaneous items and an empty bottle of whiskey. Gibbs finds no one in the living area so he moves further into the house. Gibbs is about to go down the hallway when Torres comes out of the kitchen.

“Everything is clear this way,” Torres mutters, “There is blood in the kitchen that came from the garage. The car in the garage is a mess. Blood everywhere.”

Gibbs nods and he and Torres make their way down the hall, checking each room as they go. Each one so far is clear. 

They reach the last room, the door is shut. Gibbs places his hand on the handle, he turns to Torres and nods. Torres nods back in understanding and brings his gun at the ready. Gibbs turns the door handle and throws the door open with a bang as Torres charges in.

Before the loud _bang_ of the door colliding with the wall wakes up the occupants of the bedroom. Alex and Vero were sound asleep. Alex on her back and Vero cuddled at her side, her head resting on Alex’s shoulder.

“Put your hands up,” Torres yells pointing his gun at Alex and Vero.

Gibbs follows Torres into the room just as Vero hesitantly raises her hands in the air. Alex on the other hand merely raises an eyebrow at the intrusion.

“Gibbs,” Alex says, her voice hoarse, “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

Gibbs holsters his gun and replies, “Get up, Covington. We need to have a talk.”

Alex gives a quick to Vero before pushing herself up into a sitting position with a wince. The blankets that had previously covered Alex’s chest fall away revealing a large gauze on Alex’s abdomen.

“Alex,” Vero says as she scoots closer to Alex, “Be careful, you don’t want to rip your stitches.”

“I’m fine,” Alex says waving Vero off as she scoots off the bed. Her legs wobbly as she stands up.

“Let’s talk, Gibbs,” Alex says.

“Get dressed,” Gibbs says and turns to Torres, “Torres, search the house.”

Torres nods as he puts his gun away and leaves. Alex moves over towards her dresser and takes out some basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Alex slips the two items on and turns to Gibbs as she leans heavily on the dresser.

“What do you need,” Alex asks?

Gibbs sighs, “I am going to have to take you in.”

“For what,” Vero asks, “Alex has done nothing wrong.”

“Gibbs,” Torres says as he comes back into the room a pocket knife in his hand, “Look what I found.”

Torres opens the pocket knife. The tip of the pocket knife was missing.

Gibbs sighs, “turn around, Alex.”

“That’s not mine,” Alex says as she looks at the knife in confusion.

“Turn around,” Gibbs insists, “Don’t make this any harder.”

“She says it isn’t hers. So, it isn’t hers,” Vero says moving in front of Alex, “You don’t have probable cause to arrest her. Hell, I don’t even see a warrant.”

“Torres,” Gibbs says.

Torres quickly places the knife in a bag and sets it down on the dresser as he removes his handcuffs. 

“Sorry, chica,” Torres says.

Torres moves towards Vero and roughly places the handcuffs on her as she tries to fight him.

“Turn around, I don’t want to hurt you,” Gibbs says to Alex.

Alex looks away from Vero to Gibbs, “Don’t worry about me, just don’t hurt her.”

Alex turns around and places her hands behind her back. Gibbs secures the handcuffs to Alex’s wrists snugly. Alex grits her teeth. Torres and Gibbs lead the two women to their car where they are put in the back seat.

“Finish searching the house,” Gibbs tells Torres as he shuts the door behind Alex.

Torres nods and goes back to the house. _Ring! Ring!_ Gibbs’ phone rings.

“Gibbs,” he answers.

“Gibbs, we just left Langley,” Bishop says over the phone, “Alex doesn’t work there anymore. They don’t have any idea where she might be.”

“I got her,” Gibbs says, “You and McGee, need to come help Torres bag and tag the house we found her at. I’ll send you the address.”

“On our way, Gibbs.”

Gibbs hangs up.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva find some disturbing things Alex's DC safe house. Alex and Vero get questioned by NCIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Fourteen: 2020 May 20-Washington DC: Alex’s Safe House**

“You sure this is the place,” Tony asks as he looks at a modest one-story house. 

“I think I would remember the house I stayed at for three days before I moved into Gibbs’ house,” Ziva says as she gets out of the passenger seat. 

Tony gets out and walks around the car to stand beside Ziva. 

“So, how do you want to do this?” 

Ziva observes the house with sharp eyes. 

“You take back, I’ll take the front,” Ziva answers as she starts walking towards the front door, drawing her gun from her holster. 

Tony follows Ziva’s lead and withdraws his gun as he creeps behind the house. Ziva stands in front of the front door, silently counting to three. Ziva kicks at the door, opening it.

The house is silent as Ziva walks through the threshold. Everything seems so immaculate and also somewhat nostalgic.

“Ziva!”

Ziva quickly turns her head towards the area from which Tony calls. She walks silently towards where his voice came from, her gun at the ready.

“Tony,” She asks?

“I found something,” he replies as she turns the corner into the room Tony is in.

Tony is standing in what is supposed to be a guest bedroom with light blue walls and a large bed, but instead, the walls are no longer blue as blood stains the walls and the bed is nowhere to be seen.

To the far side of the room, there is a table with jars of things: toenails and fingernails, and teeth. There are also bloody ropes, a metal rod, male organs, a pair of broken and bloody glasses, and an IUD sitting on the table. There is a tattoo stapled to the wall. Cans of kerosene sit on the floor with buckets of cleaning supplies and packages of white powder, possibly cocaine. In the middle of the room is a lone chair covered in blood, an open toolbox sits by the chair.

* * *

**Washington DC: NCIS Building-Interrogation Room One**

Alex sits all alone in the cold, dim interrogation room, her hands handcuffed in front of her. Alex takes even breathes and looks straight ahead at the two-way mirror.

On the other side of the mirror, Sloane is observing Alex. The door behind Sloane opens and Torres walks in.

“Has Gibbs talked to her yet,” he asks?

“No,” Sloane answers, “He is talking to her friend.”

Torres watches Alex stare straight at the glass unblinking as if she can see through it.

“Tony and Ziva just got back,” Torres says, “They came back from her safe house… Tony said it looked more like a torture house. Blood everywhere, trophies.”

“Have you found a connection between the victims yet?”

“Not yet,” Tores looks at Sloane, “It’s not really our top priority. We found enough evidence to link Covington to the victims.”

Sloane doesn’t respond.

* * *

**Washington DC: NCIS Building-Interrogation Room Two**

“Do you recognize any of these people,” Gibbs says as he lays down photos of each victim onto the table in front of Vero.

Vero looks down at them, her face unreadable.

“No,” Vero says as she looks back up to Gibbs, “What do they have to do with Alex?”

Gibbs doesn’t say anything. He opens the file in his hand and lays pictures from each crime scene on top of the previous pictures.

“How about now?”

Vero looks back down at the pictures, “I told you, I don’t recognize anyone.”

A knock at the door draws Vero’s attention away from the pictures.

“Gibbs,” Tony says as he sticks his head through the door, “I need to talk to you.”

Gibbs stands up from the table and walks out into the hall. Vero stares ahead at the mirror. 

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs says as he shuts the door behind him.

Tony gives Gibbs another file, “Pictures, from Alex’s safe house.”

Gibbs flips the file open and scans through the pictures.

“We sent the evidence to Kaise,” Tony says, “just waiting on the results.”

Gibbs nods and closes the file.

“Good work, DiNozzo,” Gibbs grabs the doorknob to interrogation two, “Why don’t you go talk to Alex.”

Gibbs doesn’t wait for a reply and walks back into interrogation room two.

* * *

**NCIS Building-Squad Room**

“Okay,” Bishop says, “so, we have evidence and we have our killer, but how does everything fit together?”

“I cross-referenced the serial number from the phone we confiscated from Alex. It’s a match for the restricted phone that Petty Officer Moore talked to a week ago,” McGee says.

“Okay, so that links, Alex to our last victim,” Bishop says, “but what about the other two?”

“I may have an answer for that,” Ziva says, “I talked to Seaman Price’s shipmates again about where Price liked to hang out.”

Ziva pulls a picture of a building up onto the tv.

“They all said he liked to hang out in a club downtown. Club 21,” Ziva says, “I called the club and requested some surveillance footage. It seemed Price was a regular at the club.”

Ziva pulls up security footage from inside the club.

“Guess who was also a regular?”

McGee catches sight of a familiar person.

“Alex.”

* * *

**NCIS Building-Interrogation Room One**

“Alex Covington,” Tony says as he strolls into the room, a file in hand, and sits in front of Alex, “I like the haircut. It looks a little shorter on the sides than it did the last time I saw you.”

Alex shifts her eyes away from the mirror to look at Tony with a quirked eyebrow.

“Tony… You here to tell me what I did? Or do I have to wait another two hours?”

Tony clicks his tongue, “Snappy, snappy… Well, how about first we take a look at a few pictures.” 

Tony lays out three pictures of the victims in uniform.

“Recognize anyone?”

Alex looks down at the pictures, her eyes taking in each detail.

“You mean besides the fact that they are all military personnel?”

Tony stares at Alex.

“This one is a Marine Sergeant,” Alex says, “You can tell by the patch on the shoulder of his sleeve. This one is a Navy Seaman and the last one is a Petty Officer… Is this all you called me in for? Because if so, you could have called or Facetimed or Skyped or even emailed me. It would have made this a hell of lot easier.”

Tony puts the pictures back into the file.

“You don’t work for the CIA anymore. You haven’t for almost a year and a half. Why?”

Alex leans back in her chair.

“Oh, you know, reasons, disagreements, things like that.”

“I went to your safe house.”

“Really,” Alex raises an eyebrow, “Which one? Isreal? The one we stopped at on the way back from Leavenworth?”

“The one in DC.”

“Huh… I forgot about that one. Did you know that was the safe house that Ziva stayed at?”

“She mentioned it.”

“What did you think about it?”

“It would have been alright if there wasn’t blood all over the guest bedroom.”

Alex didn’t look surprised.

“Sounds like I need to get a cleaner out there.”

“Probably isn’t going to do much good now,” Tony says as he removes a bagged pocket knife from his coat pocket, “Recognize this?”

“Looks like a pocket knife.”

“This knife was found at your house. The house Gibbs picked you up from.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint but that’s not my knife.”

“It has your fingerprints on it.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s mine though,” Alex leans across the table, “So, can we cut the bullshit now? Or is there a certain amount of time that we need to kill asking stupid questions.”

Tony removes pictures of the victims taken at the crime scenes.

“Did you kill them?”

Alex looks down lazily at the pictures.

“No,” Alex picks up one of the pictures studying it, “When I kill someone. I like to use…a less hands-on approach. It’s less bloody and you’re less likely to get caught.”

Alex sets the picture down and looks back up at Tony.

“Can I go, now?”

Tony places the pictures back into the file.

“If you didn’t kill them, then why did we find evidence at your safe house?”

Alex clenches her jaw, leans back in her chair, and stares at the two-way mirror. The door to interrogation opens, Tony cuts his eyes from Alex to the door where Gibbs is letting Vero into the room.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs nods his head towards the hall.

Tony gets up from his chair and follows Gibbs into the hall, the door shutting behind them, leaving Alex and Vero alone together.

From the other side of the mirror, Torres and Sloane are still watching everything unfold.

“Gibbs just broke rule number one,” Torres says, “Never let suspects sit together.”

* * *

**NCIS Building-Squad Room**

“Kaise just finished running tests on the evidence brought from both of Alex Covington’s houses,” Agent Parker says as she walks into Gibbs’ team’s office.

“What did Kaise find,” Tony asks as he and Gibbs enter in behind her.

“All of the body parts found in Covington’s safe house, match the victims. The bloody ropes found have traces of each victim. The metal rod and tattoo are both from Sargent Hughes and Seaman Price respectively. The cocaine found in the safe house was a match to the cocaine we found at the hotel,” Agent Parker says, “The glasses match the piece of glass found at the last crime scene and IUD found at the house belonged to Petty Officer Moore. Ducky said it is possible when the killer removed it, it could have caused the vaginal scarring.”

“What about the kerosene found at the safe house,” Bishop asks?

“Kaise says it’s possible it could have been used on the victims.”

“What about the blood found at the safe house,” Ziva asks?

“Both matches to Sergeant Hughes and Petty Officer Moore. Kaise also said the bleach bottle from the array of cleaning supplies you found at the safe house had traces of Seaman Price’s blood on the bootle.”

“Find anything else at the safe house,” Gibb asks?

“There weren’t any fingerprints found in the room. It was like the whole room had been wiped clean for fingerprints. But the rest of the house had Covington’s prints everywhere.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” McGee says, “Why clean one room of prints but not the others?”

“What did Kaise find at the other house,” Gibbs asks?

“The pocket knife found is a match to the knife tip found at the Navy Yard. The knife also has Covington’s prints on it. The blood found in the kitchen and in the Mustang was Covington’s own blood. No trace of any of the victims in Covington’s car.”

Gibbs doesn’t say another word and leaves the squad room. Gibbs walks down the hall to interrogation room one and opens the door to observation. 

“Gibbs,” Torres says as Sloane keeps observing the room on the other side of the mirror.

Gibbs nods at Torres and moves to stand beside Sloane, “Jack.”

“Gibbs,” She replies, “You haven’t missed anything. They have been like this since you left them together.”

On the other side of the mirror, it is silent, Alex is still sitting, staring at the mirror. Vero, on the other hand, is leaned against the wall, next to the door. 

“You know,” Vero says as she looks down at her nails, “I kind of feel like that snake from Harry Potter right now. I’m trapped behind a glass and everyone is watching. Waiting for me to move.”

Alex looks at Vero from the corner of her eye and then back at the mirror.

“That agent that arrested you, Gibbs. He showed me some pictures.”

Alex looks up at the camera in the corner of the room. A red light blinks from beside the lens. Alex looks back at the mirror, an eyebrow quirked.

“Want to tell me why they think you killed those people?

The corner of Alex’s mouth turns into a smirk as the red light from beside the camera lens fades.

“If anything, I’m Sirius in this matter.”

Vero looks up her nails at Alex.

“Why not tell them that?”

Alex scoffs.

“Who will believe me? The evidence they have is concrete. It could potentially put me away for a long time.”

Vero pushes herself off the wall and sits in the chair Tony vacated earlier.

Vero’s voice drops to a whisper, “Well, I believe you.”

Alex leans forward onto the table and drops her voice to a whisper.

“You remember the guy we have been keeping tabs on?”

“Yeah? What has he got to do with this?”

“I think he found out,” Alex says, “The pictures Tony showed. They look like his MO.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lie or Truth? Only time will tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Fifteen: 2020 May 20-Washington DC: NCIS Building-Interrogation Room One**

“You remember the guy we have been keeping tabs on?”

“Yeah? What has he got to do with this?”

“I think he found out,” Alex says, “The pictures Tony showed. They look like his MO.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it? We are stuck here until proven innocent.”

Alex looks down at the table thoughtfully.

“Not exactly,” Alex says, “I think I can make a deal with them.”

“Last I checked, normal, good standing agencies don’t make deals with supposed killers.”

“That may be true but it’s not like we have a better option.”

Vero shakes her head.

“What are you going to say?”

“The truth…at least some of it… Enough to get us released,” Alex smiles, “You know, I can’t give away all of my secrets at once.”

Vero looks at Alex unimpressed, “If that’s the best chance we have then let’s do it.”

Alex looks up at the mirror and raises her voice slightly.

“I’m ready to talk, Gibbs,” Alex wets her lip, “but not here.”

On the other side of the mirror, Gibbs stares at Alex through the glass.

“Who does she think she is,” Torres says, “making demands. We have all the evidence we need.”

Gibbs turns away from the mirror and leaves the observation room.

“It seems like Gibbs believes her at least a little,” Sloane notes, “Or he wouldn’t be acting this way.”

They watch as Gibbs opens the door to observation room one. Alex and Gibbs regard each other for a moment before Gibbs motions towards the hallway. Alex stands from her chair with a slight grimace. Alex walks towards the door but looks over her shoulder just before crossing the threshold into the hallway.

“You coming, Vero,” Alex asks?

Vero looks at Gibbs and then meets Alex’s eyes with a slight eyebrow raise.

“I don’t know if I can. It seems like this is more of a one on one chat.”

Alex looks over at Gibbs but Gibbs gives Alex a slight shake of the head.

“Well, it seems like you are right,” Alex looks back at Vero, “Maybe next time.”

Alex walks into the hallway and Gibbs shuts the door to interrogation. Neither of them says a word as Gibbs leads them to the elevator. Alex enters the elevator first, then Gibbs enters and pushes a button. The elevator starts to move but Gibbs quickly stops it, jolting it to a halt.

“Gibbs,” Alex says breaking the silence.

Gibbs stares at the elevator doors, “What was your part in it?”

Alex doesn’t answer.

“You wanted to talk. So, talk.”

Alex sighs and turns towards Gibbs, “I don’t know where to start but honestly, I had nothing to do with those murders.”

“How about you start with your safe house.”

“I haven’t been there since I let Ziva crash there two years ago. I hardly go to any of my safe houses unless I am in dire need of something. This means they usually collect dust and cobwebs. You can ask Ziva and Tony that. Tony wasn’t a big fan of my safe house in Isreal for that very reason.”

“Who would have had access to your safe house?”

Alex runs her hands through her hair, “Anyone really, I don’t have any type of security system. Also, it’s bad to say but I usually lose the keys to my houses after awhile. So, I keep a lock pick set with me most of the time.”

Gibbs watches Alex out of the corner of his eye and says nothing for a few minutes.

“A week ago, May 13th, the last victim placed a call to your cell phone, the one found at the house we picked you up from,” Gibb mutters.

“I remember it,” Alex says, “it was a quick call. A woman, she said she needed to meet me. She had information about a thing I have been working on. I tried to ask her about it over the phone but she wouldn’t say. She just gave me a date, a time, and a place then hung up. I didn’t get a name or anything.”

“What was the date, time, and place?”

Alex bites her lip and sighs, “Rock Creek Park, May 20th, 3 am.”

“What did you see when you got there?”

“It was dark, obviously, I saw a body on the ground. I went to check it out, it was a woman, Navy uniform.”

“Was there anything special about the body?”

“It was hard to see but when I went to check her pulse I found a slash across her throat.”

“Nothing else?”

“It was dark and I wasn’t able to do a full-body examination. Hell, I wasn’t even able to call the cops.”

Gibbs quickly turns his head to look at Alex, “Explain?”

Alex sighs, “Someone attacked me with a knife, I wasn’t even able to pull my gun I was so surprised. Hell, I wasn’t able to pull my knife until I shoved them off enough.”

“What kind of knife do you have?”

“It’s a pocket knife, I don’t know the brand. It’s got a black handle and a black blade… It was a present from my grandma when I graduated high school… It used to be my grandpa’s.”

Gibbs nods, “Any idea who attacked you?”

Alex closes her eye briefly before responding, “No idea… But it was probably whoever killed your victims.”

Gibbs narrows his eyes at Alex’s revelation but ultimately decides not to question Alex any further. Gibbs pushes a button and the elevator resumes moving.

“You want some coffee,” Gibbs asks as the elevator doors open revealing the lobby of NCIS.

“Coffee sounds good,” Alex says as she and Gibbs step off the elevator.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the truth and the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: All mistakes are my own. I do not have a Beta Reader.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the NCIS universe or its characters.

**Chapter Sixteen: 2020 April 27-Washington DC: Alex’s House**

“Are you sure Alex,” Vero asks? 

“I’m sure, my sources say he has been spotted at the club every day between 9pm-1am for the past week,” Alex says as she straightens her leather jacket.

“Okay then. What’s the plan?” 

“We need to observe him. Figure out his schedule. Once we have that, then we plan our attack strategy.”

Vero picks up her clutch by the door.

“This seems too convenient. He’s been in hiding for over a year, avoiding the public. And now all of a sudden he shows back up on our radar. Aren’t you the least bit suspicious?”

Alex opens the passenger door of her Mustang and helps Vero in.

“If I said I wasn’t, I’d be lying,” Alex says, “But it a risk I need to take.”

Alex closes the passenger door and walks around the car to get into the driver’s side.

“Time to hit up the club scene,” Alex mutters as she backs the car out of the garage.

The drive to the club was mostly in silence as neither Alex nor Vero had much to say to the other and neither wanted to try to break the silence with the radio.

Alex stops the car across from a large brick stone building with neon lights flashing outside and a line of people waiting outside the door. Above the door was a sign,  _ Club 21 _ .

“We’re here,” Vero says as Alex turns off the car.

“Yeah, looks like we are,” Alex says as she stares at the building.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Vero says, “If we’re going to do this then let’s go over the plan again.”

Alex turns to face Vero and nods.

“Alright… I’ll give some money to the bouncer so that we can bypass the line. Once inside we need to blend in but also we need to find our target and observe,” Alex says, “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Vero says as her hand reaches for the door.

“Wait,” Alex grabs her wrist, “I got it.”

Vero drops her hand back into her lap as Alex gets out of the driver’s seat and jogs over to the passenger’s side and opens the door.

“May I,” Alex asks as she extends the other hand towards Vero?

Vero gives Alex a small smile and takes her hand. Alex helps Vere out of the car and then shuts the door.

“May I say, you look very good in that dress,” Alex says as she offers an elbow to Vero.

Vero snorts and shakes her head, “I’m pretty sure I’ve worn this little black dress a few hundred times in your presence.”

A smile threatens to make it’s way on to Alex’s face, “So? Are you saying I shouldn’t compliment you?”

Vero rolls her eyes as Alex leads her across the street to the club, “I’m not saying that I’m just saying you rarely compliant me, well technically anyone really.”

“Well, why don’t you just take the compliant but I’m obviously not lying.”

Alex leads Vero past the line of people and to the bouncer standing at the door. Neither Alex nor the bouncer says anything as Alex hands the man a wad of hundred dollar bills. The man opens the door to the club and lets Alex and Vero in.

The beat of the music hits Alex and Vero in the face as they step into the darkish club, the only light source being the glow of neon lights over the dance floor and soft blue lights behind the bar.

“Wanna drink,” Alex asks over the music?

Vero nods. Alex drops Vero’s hand from the crook of her arm and takes Vero’s hand into hers. Vero laces their fingers together as Alex shoves through the crowd of sweaty bodies pull Vero behind her towards the bar.

“What do you want,” Alex asks Vero as the bartender stops in front of them.

“Sex on the Beach,” Vero tells the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat,” Alex says and gives the bartender her credit card.

“So, do you see him yet?”

Alex glances around the club, “Not yet.”

The bartender sets the drinks down in front of Alex and Vero.

“Thanks,” Alex says and slips the bartender a 20.

“You never went into much detail on what he looks likes.”

Alex picks up her glass of whiskey and takes a sip, “Trust me, Vero, even with how little I’ve told you. You’ll know him when you see him. He’s too big to miss.”

Vero picks her drink and downs it.

“Come on,” Vero says as she grabs Alex’s wrist, “let’s dance.”

“Uh, I don’t think that is a good idea,” Alex says as she tries to stay standing next to the bar.

“Yeah, well I don’t think staying next to the bar looking like we are casing the place is a good idea either,” Vero says.

Alex sighs and sets her drink on the counter, “Vero,” Alex steps closer to Vero, “Look, I don’t know how to dance.”

Vero takes a half step back, “What? I thought you took dance classes in high school for that play in sophomore year?”

“In my defense, I never really paid attention to those classes because I was a stage manager, not an actor.”

“I thought it was mandatory even if you weren’t an actor?”

“Look, it was weird, girls had to be paired with guys. No exceptions, even if there was two more girls than guys. And all the guys in there were not the best. Sure I got on fine with them but it was weird. And then that lady the school hired to teach us was very… I don’t know… It was just a disaster besides, I really didn’t want to learn. And I was also recovering from a concussion at the time…”

“You’re rambling,” Vero says.

“Yeah, well I really don’t want to do this.”

Vero bites her lip.

“How about I make you a deal?”

Alex cocks an eyebrow, “What kind of deal?”

“If you dance with me, I’ll owe you one?”

“Last I checked, I am the one that owes you quite a bit.”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure we’re even at the moment,” Vero says.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure we were even when you saved me in London. Anything after that, I kinda owe you.”

“But I’ve used you as my scapegoat a ton of times after guys have bought me drinks and want they want a little something afterward.”

“So? That doesn’t count in my book.”

Vero sighs, “How about we agree to disagree? I say we’re even at the moment, so we’re even. Now, will you take the deal?”

Alex scrunches her face in thought before her eyes catch movement in the crowd.

“Vero,” Alex grabs Vero’s upper arm, “He’s here.”

“Where?”

“Your 6 o’clock.”

Vero goes to turn her head but Alex stops her with a hand to her cheek.

“Wait,” Alex says, “Don’t turn towards him.”

“Why not,” Vero hisses, “I need to see who our target it.”

Alex grimaces, “I hate that fucking deal.”

Alex pulls Vero into a kiss, her other hand goes to Vero’s waist. Before Vero can react, Alex breaks away from the kiss and turns Vero around. Vero’s back to Alex’s front. Alex’s hands slip down to Vero’s hips as Vero leans back on Alex. Alex rests her head on Vero’s back.

“Which one is he?”

“The big guy by the door, you can’t miss him,” Alex says in Vero’s ear.

Vero looks glances over to the door and spots a tall burly man. The man has dark hair with gray around the temples and a five o’clock shadow. As the man moved closer to the bar, Vero could make out a deep jagged across the man’s cheek.

The man passes Vero and Alex and leans against the bar as Vero pulls Alex further onto the dance floor.

“He’s not what I had imagined,” Vero says as she turns around in Alex’s arms.

“Yeah, well, there’s not much to say on that matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? Who is the person Alex and Vero are going after? Leave a comment down below.


End file.
